


Waves

by eduardo_tozier



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Pirates, abuse tw, henry bowers is a fuckhead in this one too, its not explicit or anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:06:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23112178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eduardo_tozier/pseuds/eduardo_tozier
Summary: Richie is kidnapped from one ship onto another by Captain Uris and basically you get the point
Relationships: Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris, Stanley Uris/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	1. Raid

Richie's chair nearly toppled over to the ground when the Cry of Hades took it's first hit, the walls surrounding him shaking violently and the doors rattling on their hinges. He steadied himself as he got to his feet, bounding around his desk and unsheathing his sword, headed for the upper deck. 

"No!" Henry yelled as Richie emerged from below, grabbing his arm and dragging him harshly towards the stairs. "You're not fighting this one, Tozier, go back below deck, I'll send for you when it's over." He began the descent down with Richie in tow, headed back towards their quarters. 

Richie wrenched his arms from the older man, heart pounding in his chest. His chest was cold with adrenaline and anxiety. "You expect me to simply wait while you fight these invaders? After all this time, you don't seem to know me at all, Bowers." 

Henry made a face as Richie made to storm past him, but his arm was caught once again, this time the grip more vicious, nearly bruising. He was hauled backwards once again, closer to his door. 

"You're defying direct orders from your captain, Tozier. Are you begging for a punishment?" He shoved the younger boy farther down the steps, nearly sending him toppling down. "This isn't a normal raid, I don't need you fighting in it. You'll get yourself killed. I'll repeat myself only once. Wait. Below. Deck. I'll get you when it's finished." He turned and ran into the hoard of enemy pirates beginning to board the ship, brandishing his sword. another hit of the cannon landed on the hull. 

To his credit, Richie did mean to follow orders. He meant to turn on his heel and go back to his quarters, wait until the fighting was over and he could talk to Henry, but the sight of Beverly Marsh fighting off two men, each twice her size stopped him in his tracks. He glanced to where Henry had disappeared and, seeing no sight of him, rushed to Beverly's aid. 

He raised his sword and forced it down to collide with the man in front of him, sending him to the ground and his sword skittering across the deck. With only one attacker, Beverly expertly swung her sword and sent the man overboard. "Good to see you, Miss Scarlett," Richie said with a wink, slipping to her side with his weapon ready. They were nearly back-to-back, ready to defend one another. 

"Thank God, Richie, I didn't know how much longer I could hold them off," she huffed, wiping her short hair from her face. "To your right!" 

Richie swung his sword, the metal colliding with another blade and blocking a deadly blow. He pushed the pirate off himself, taking in his size. Only a few inches taller but his shoulders nearly half a foot wider, Richie couldn't doubt the strength difference between them. Another blow came down harder than the last and he met it with his sword, struggling the blade away from its position in front of him, nearly scathing the bridge of his nose. Another blow to his left, Richie just managed to block it. The next swing came down hardest, the blades colliding in front of his eyes and the strength of the attacking pirate forcing him back until he hit the side of the ship, effectively blocking him in. 

Beverly screamed next to him and he heard a body drop to the ground. As he swung his head to see his friend, a final hit landed on the side of his head, turning his vision black and forcing him to collapse to the ground. 

Knocking his own opponent to the ground, Bill Denbrough weaved through the fighting men and made his way over to wear Richie had crumpled helplessly to the ground. He raised his sword high above his head as the enemy pirate began to wrap a rope around Richie's hands and drove the sharp blade into the pirate's back and kicked him aside away from his friend. 

Freeing his weapon, Bill whirled around with his blade between himself and any other attacker. In front of him was a wall of enemy pirates, maybe two dozen surrounding him and Richie. He swung his sword wildly through the air as a warning. "Stay back!" he yelled, scanning the blockade of armed pirates. 

"I suggest you put the weapon down, mate. It appears you're desperately outnumbered and I'd hate to see you hurt," a man emerged from the crowd, his own sword in hand, pointed at Bill. 

"I said to get back!" Bill roared and swung his sword again. 

The strange man tsked. "Very well, then." He swung his blade, colliding with Bill's. 

Bill was outmatched, he quickly realized, the other man having superior skills to his own. He was quickly unarmed, his sword flying from his hand and clattering to the deck. The man pointed his sword to Bill's throat, nearly piercing his skin. His hands were swiftly tied behind his back in the same fashion as Richie's and he struggled in the grasp he was held in as he was led to the enemy ship, forced to board. 

When Richie came to, his head was swimming, a powerful throb stemming from the large bump on his temple. A groan escaped his lips as a struggled to sit up properly, blinking wearily into the dim lighting of the room. He could vaguely see it was a square, roughly seven feet across each wall. A lantern hung from the ceiling, swinging idly from the rock of the ship. Judging by the light let by it, Richie guessed it had ten minutes of wax left in it. Shadows moved underneath the space of the door, heavy boots landing each footfall against the worn wood. 

He attempted to stand but was forced down by the chains around his wrists and ankles. How could he not have noticed them? He cursed himself silently, settling back against the wall of his cell and allowing his eyes to slide shut, his head still aching. 

The door in front of him freaked open, flooding the room in bright light that forced itself through his eyelids. He kept them closed, listening to the door shut and the new person walk across the cell, opening the small lantern door. They seemed to fill it with wax, brightening the room slightly. 

"Good evening," a strange voice said. "I'm glad to see you finally awake." 

Richie finally opened his eyes to see who the stranger was. He was tall, maybe Richie's height, hair a dirty blond mess on his head, arms crossed over his chest in a long red coat, clearly the captain of the ship. 

"And I'm glad to see they provide snacks on this voyage, what a nice touch," he said hoarsely, cracking the mischievous grin that had always gotten him into so much trouble. The captain's face remained totally unchanged, totally neutral, simply staring down at Richie. "What, my joke wasn't funny enough? Considering the chains, I do suppose I could've gone with something kinkier." 

The man squatted down to balance gracefully on the balls of his feet, his elbows rested on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him. "Do you know who I am?" he asked almost politely, cocking his head to the side. Despite the civil tone, Richie could sense the authority trying to be demanded by the blond. He also noticed how much the man resembled a bird in that stance, carefully watching and waiting. 

"Sorry, love, can't say I do. Why don't you tell me so I know whose ass I'll have the pleasure of kicking later." He have a defiant grin. "Only if the night goes badly, though." A flame of rebellion danced in Richie's eyes, almost making them brighter. The captain couldn't help the corner of his mouth turning up in amusement. 

"My name is Captain Stanley Uris, but Captain will do just fine," he extended his hand out to Richie. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Richie's heart nearly stopped in his chest as the name passed over the captain's lips. He tensed, keeping his eyes focused entirely on Captain Uris, the most deadly and ruthless pirate to sail the seven seas. His shoulders tensed and he lifted his chin, looking at the captain from down the length of his nose. He licked his top lip and reached out a shackled hand to meet the captain's. "Richie," he said with as much spunk as he could muster, his jaw tight and eyes almost dangerous. 

Stanley laughed curtly, dropping his captive's hand. "I know who you are, Your Highness. I've been tracking you for months, ever since we caught a whiff of you in Italy. Why do you think we stormed your ship?" 

Richie glared you at the other man. "Where are the rest of my men?" 

"Dead," Stanley deadpanned with a shrug. He went back to the same apathetic look he had when he walked in. Richie's heart dropped to his stomach, anger settling in his chest. "It's only you and two others." 

His breathe caught in his throat. "Which two?" The captain ignored him and rose to his feet, wiping the dust from the sleeves of his coat. He turned on his heel and made his way to the door. "I asked you a question, god dammit, who are the other two captives? Who are the they, you bastard!" Richie hollered after him before the captain could open the door. 

In a graceful swoop, the captain crossed the room and Richie's head jerked violently to the left as the back of the other's hand collided with his cheek. His skin stung and a likely cut was opened just underneath his eye having caught on a ring. He could feel the blood begin to bead. He looked back to the captain enraged. The Captain knelt down and grabbed Richie by the collar of his shirt, tugging him forward so the tips of their nose grazed one another. 

"As long as you are on my ship, I am your captain and you will speak to me with respect." He breathed heavily and for the first time since being forced on the ship, Richie felt fear begin to well in his heart. "If I was anyone else on this ship I would have your tongue for speaking to me in such a way." He dropped the other man back against the wall with a hollow thud, the. reached out to wipe the drop blood threatening to drip from the other man's wound. He stood and made his way back to the door before turning around towards Richie. "The other two captives are a man named Bill Denbrough and a woman named Beverly Marsh." 

Richie sighed with relief, his shoulders relaxing. "Thank you." He closed his eyes and tilted his head back to rest against the wall. "What about Captain Bowers?" 

"We only took the other two and yourself," he said, then closed the door behind him as he exited, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.


	2. Escape

The days seemed to inch by from inside the damp prison cell, stretching thin to their greatest limits just to torture Richie that much further. The only light came from a gradually dimming lantern that hung in the corner by the door, casting off eerie shadows on the walls surrounding him and swaying in time with the oceans movements. His movement was limited by the iron cuffs that still adorned his arms and legs, keeping him attached to the same wall as far from the door as he could be. 

He was still grateful for two things, despite his current predicament. One was the gentle rocking of the ship that made sleep that much easier, making hours tick by faster, and the other was the meals he was offered twice a day, more specifically the man who brought them, Ben Hanscom. Ben made sure the food was always hot for Richie, or at the very least warm, and made for decent conversation for an hour or so each time, asking Richie for pirate stories and tales of his time at sea with Henry. 

"I never get to see any real action," he explained on the fourth day. "I stick to the kitchen and my quarters during fights and raids. I can prep your food anyway you want, but I'm absolute shite with a real blade." 

Richie snorted, shoveling more food into his face. "You sound like a regular woman." 

"Better watch it with that, Richie. We've got a new woman on board who I don't think would take too kindly to that sort of talk." The man warned. 

"A new woman?" Richie asked through a mouthful of food. He tried his best to mask the hopefulness in his voice. 

"Aye, a new woman. I think she came on with you, a pretty redhead named Beverly. She's a real firecracker, that one, and she offered to help me with my swordsmanship." 

Richie’s mind was moving a mile a minute at the thought of his friend. "Benny, listen, you have to help me see her," he said, setting his tray down to his right. 

“Beverly?” 

“Yes, Bev. I haven’t seen her in four days, I barely hoped she was still alive. I have to see for myself she’s alright.” 

Ben's face fell and grew pale. He looked towards the door as if expecting someone to burst through at any moment. "I don't think so, Rich. The captain barely allows me down here as it is, he'd have me swimming with the fishes if I brought anyone else, especially anyone from your old ship." 

"Ben, you don't understand! I have to see her, I have to see for myself that she's okay! Please, Ben I'm begging you, here." His arms moved wildly as he spoke, rattling the chains and making Ben that much more nervous. 

Ben's face grew paler than before, except for his bottom lip he had bitten between his teeth. He shook his head and stood, scrambling to get to the door. "I-I'm really sorry Richie, but I can't help you. I can’t risk my own life like that,” he said before the door swung closed behind him. 

Richie cried with frustration, throwing the tray of food as hard as he could across the cell at the door in front of him. It clattered to the ground loudly, splattering food all around it. His arm caught in the chain mid-throw, tugging hard at his should and increasing his simmering rage to a boil. "Get me the fuck out of here!" He yelled. “Uris, you fucking coward, let me out!” 

He spent the next few hours cussing into the empty room, demanding his release. His voice grew horse as he screamed his throat raw. Eventually be had to stop, afraid he would do serious damage to his voice if he didn't. 

When supper time came, Ben didn't return. Richie knew it was too much to hope that he would, he was sure he had thoroughly scared the poor chef off. The lights outside of the cell began to light, signaling the oncoming nightfall. The footsteps that normally passed his cell were now few and far between as the crew turned in for the night, giving Richie opportunity. 

He reached up and pulled a pin from his mane of curls, slipping it into the iron cuffs and releasing the shackles from his ankles and wrists that had begun to rub his skin raw. He pulled off his boots and set them under the lantern by the door and unlocked the knob, then slipped the pin into his left pocket. 

Pressing an ear to the door, Richie listened for a sign of anyone coming. Hearing nothing, he carefully opened the cell door and slipped out into the hallway, rolling his feet as he walked to keep as quiet as possible. 

Footsteps echoed around the hall behind him. Richie slipped into a dark room he prayed was empty, pressing his back to the door and waiting for the footsteps to pass him. A quiet click sounded across the room and it was flooded with light. Richie froze like a deer caught in headlights, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the light to see who had caught him. 

"Richie?" a familiar voice asked from the far corner. 

Relief flooded his body as he watched the figure rise from the bed, feet hitting the floor. "Big Bill!" he yelled as loudly as he dared, and ran across the room to embrace the other man. "Jesus, I haven't heard anything about you in days, I thought they'd had you killed for sure." 

"Me? What about you!" Bill exclaimed. "No one would tell me anything about you, I saw them drag you on board and didn't see you afterwards." 

Richie pulled back, still holding the other man but at a distance to see his face. "I've been in a cell for three days. The only person I've seen so far is a man named Ben from the kitchens." 

Bill reached out to touch Richie's cheek, squinting his eyes through the dim light. "How'd you get this bruise?" 

Richie laughed and gently swatted his hand away. "You know me, Big Bill. Can't keep my mouth shut even with someone like Uris." 

Bill’s expression turned to stone. “I'll kill him, Richie. I swear I will." 

Richie smiled fondly. "It's alright, Bill. Don't go getting yourself into trouble over little ol' me." He broke their hold and made his way back towards the door. "Besides, it’s healing up pretty nice. No harm, really. Stay here, I have to go find Beverly." 

Bill shook his head. "You can't go see her now, it's too late. She stays in a room with the other nurses by the infirmary. You'll get caught almost certainly." 

"Only if I'm stupid about it. I'll see you again later, I promise, but for now I have to go find Bev." 

"I'll go with you, you'll have a better chance that way." 

"No," 

"Jesus, just let me protect you, Rich!" He slumped into himself. "If he's anything like Henry, I don't want you doing anything alone." 

Richie offered a warm smile. “You're too kind to me, Bill. But I need to protect you through all of this, I'm the reason we're here. Please, as my friend, stay here. I'll return." 

He slipped out of the room before Bill could answer, gently closing the door behind him. Navigating the ship wasn't difficult. The giant signs that said "INFIRMARY" on them certainly helped, leading the way to Beverly's room. 

He could hear laughter inside, muffled speech behind the wood. He could hear Beverly, too, laughing with another girl inside. He could breathe easier, hearing her, knowing both his friends were safe. 

"Notify the captain, quickly! The prisoner escaped, we need to find him!" Richie heard down the hall. Long shadows began to move down the walls, closer to him, threatening to spot him. He ducked into the nearest room, one with a large door with intricate details. He listened intently as the loud footsteps ran past. 

The room was filled with books, lining every wall floor to ceiling. A ladder was attached to the shelves to slide around to wherever needed, kept in place by bricks on either side of the base. He reached and traced the spine of a book with his fingertip. Nostalgia washed over him, thoughts of studies so long ago infecting his mind. He picked up a book, a blue cover with gold lettering, and began flipping idly through the pages. 

A hand pulled him roughly backwards into their chest, a blade pressed hard to his throat. The book dropped with a loud thud against the rug, narrowly missing his socked toes. He grasped the wrist holding the dagger around the blue cuff with both hands, instinctively trying to protect himself. 

"I was sure you'd attempt escape sooner. I suppose your little temper tantrum with Ben finally pushed you over the edge, Your Majesty." Richie could hear the smile in the captain's voice, his voice a harsh and raspy hiss in his ear. There was no hint of surprise, as though he knew what Richie would do before even Richie did. His hand was cold as it slipped down into Richie's pocket. 

"Woah, there, Cap. At least buy me dinner first." He laughed, but made no move to stop the pirate. 

Uris found the pin and pulled it out from Richie's pocket, slipping it into his own before turning Richie around so his back pressed against the bookshelf, the blade digging deeper into his throat. Richie swallowed nervously. "I had my men search you before." 

"They clearly did a pretty shite job, sorry to say. Better luck next time." He laughed shallowly, eyes darting from the captain's to the blade, then back again. He had his hands held up in surrender, waiting for him to either drop the knife or use it against him. The captain eventually sheathed the knife, keeping his palm on the handle, and took a step back away from Richie, giving him room to breathe. 

“I’m having you moved to a different room.” Uris said. “I don’t need you sneaking around the ship and causing more trouble than you’re worth.” 

Richie simply nodded, rubbing the spot on his throat the blade had threatened to pierce. He followed the captain out of the library and down the hall, leaving Bev’s erupting laughter behind him. The captain stopped a man on the way down, mumbling just low enough to keep Richie from hearing clearly. They walked across the deck and to a smaller hallway, three doors lining the wall. 

“You’ll stay in this room,” Uris said, opening the door to the right. He clicked the lantern on, casting the room in a dim, yellow light that barely reached the corners. A bed was placed in the corner under a port hole - too small to fit through, Richie could tell - and an empty bookshelf was across the room from it. “It should be more than adequate.” 

“Oh, but Stan, it’s missing just one thing.” The captain grimaced at his name. “Where are the chains? Surely you’ll miss seeing me in them.” Richie roared with laughter, clutching his sides as the captain’s face grew pink, trying his best to suppress an amused smile. 

“Captain?” a voice came from the hall. A stranger entered the room, pushing the door open further. He was tall, even taller than Stan or Richie, with broad shoulders and kind eyes. “The other men said you wanted to see me and Eddie?” 

The captain hummed. “I did, Mike. I’ll be setting up our...” he looked back to Richie. “Precious cargo in this room. I need you and Eddie to stay by the entrance, prevent him from escaping.” 

“Aye, captain,” the man said, and left the room, a smaller man coming into view for only a moment before he trailed behind Mike. 

“Cargo? Where are you taking me, then?” Richie fell backwards into his bed, the springs moaning underneath his sudden weight. He put his hands behind his head against the pillow and looked up towards the pirate captain. 

“England, of course. Your father has put a high reward for your safe return.” 

Richie’s face paled. He sat back up in the bed, his heart racing with anxiety. “N-no, no, you can’t take me back to England. I won’t go.” 

Stan laughed in sharp whoops, the sound cruel in Richie’s ears. “Oh, I can’t? Your Majesty, I don’t think you quite understand how this ship works. You don’t make the rules here, only I do that. And as long as you’re aboard my ship, I can do with you as I please. You are in no position to be making any sort of demands.” The captain turned on his heel and exited the room then, letting the door slam shut behind himself.


	3. Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t edit my own writing to save my life

The skin of Richie's back was throbbing in a steady hum when he woke the next morning, sunlight pouring through the small porthole to light up the room, dousing it in heat. He squirmed uncomfortably in his own sweat soaked sheets, moving so he laid on his stomach and took pressure off of his back. 

The pain was familiar, one he had gone through a few remarkable times in the last year, and he knew instantly what the cause was. He pushed himself up and off the bed, swinging his bare feet to the floor. He stretched his stiff muscles, reaching up so his shirt exposed some of his torso, and finally made his way to the door. 

"Good to see you up this morning, Your Highness," Mike greeted, perched on the small wooden stool across from his door. Richie grimaced. 

"Richie is fine, I don't need any title. What I do need is to head down to the infirmary." 

He took off down the hall towards the main deck without another thought, emerging into warm sunlight that beat down on his neck and arms. He didn't realize Mike was rushing to keep up until he was in step with him, strolling along the path. 

"Oh, right. I forgot I had security detail here." He said, earning a soft laugh from Mike. 

Members of the ships crew worked around them, pulling ropes and hauling around supplies. Richie caught sight of the other man from the night before, Eddie, he thinks he heard, sat in the crow's nest with a long telescope pressed to his eye. It was hot enough as close to the water as it was, Richie didn't want to imagine the kind of sweltering heat Eddie was exposed to up at that height. 

They went down a flight of stairs into the same hall as the night before, much more crowded than it had been when Richie was sneaking down it last night. A man passed by holding a barrel of swords, barely able to squeeze passed them. The pair approached the door to the infirmary, men strolling in and out with patches, salves, and fresh wounds for the medics to clean up for them. 

Beverly was a difficult person to miss, even among the large crowd of people in the small space. Her vibrant red hair stuck out like a sore thumb, her equally loud voice making her all the more obvious. She laughed loudly, a bubbly and infectious sound that stemmed from her chest and infiltrated the minds of anyone listening like a siren song. She wrapped a fresh bandage around the arm of a pirate clearly fresh from a duel, though Richie couldn't tell if he had won or not. Beverly finished off the bandage and waved goodbye as the pirate left. 

"Hiya, Miss Scawlett! Did you miss me?" Richie smiled cheekily and pulled Bev into a hug, relishing being in his friend's arms again. She squealed, hugging him back with just as much vigor and excitement. 

"Rich! I haven't seen you since Bower's ship, I thought they'd locked you away forever!" She shoved him backwards playfully, her smile still painted on her face. "I was so fucking worried." 

"Aw, shucks," Richie said, shoving her back. "Worried about me? You know better than that, Bev. I'm a big boy, I can hold my own. I came to see you last night, but they stuck you in the girls dorm it seems." 

"Yeah, I'm basically the barnacles on the side of the ship here compared to The Hades Cry, I have to room with all of the other medics. It's not too bad, it's just like a giant slumber party every night." 

Richie wiggled his eyebrows. "A slumber party? I'm really disappointed I didn't get to see, now." 

Beverly rolled her eyes and feigned disgust. "Jesus, Rich, you'd think being in the slammer would make you less of a pig." 

"Oink oink," Richie said, pressing up the tip of his nose with his index finger, and Beverly burst into another round of laughter. 

"What're you doing down here, Rich? I know it wasn't just to see me." She brushed her hair from her face and sat back on her seat, folding her hands in front of her, looking up at Richie. 

"I'd never miss a chance go see my favorite girl, you know that." He said, shaking his head. "You're sort of right, though, I do need something. You think we could go somewhere a little more... private?" 

"Aye aye, captain!" Bev jumped up and shouted over the noise in the room, mocking a solute and leading the way out of the infirmary and into a private room down the hall. Both Richie and Mike followed her in, Mike shutting the door behind them. "What's up, then?" 

Richie's cheeks felt significantly hotter. He sat on the table, crossing his ankles and looking downwards. "It's just, um, my last row with Henry is sort of... causing an issue. I just need you to tell me if it's infected again or not if you could." He paused. "Please." 

Bev'a face softened. She reached out her slender hand to take Richie's, bending her neck to make eye contact with him. "It's no big thing, Rich. I've got you, you know that. Give me just a second to get some supplies." 

She scampered out of the room and down the hall, leaving Mike and Richie alone in an uncomfortable silence. Richie thanked them universe that Mike seemed a decent enough man not to ask any questions. His breaths rattled in his chest as he waited for the redhead to return. 

"Got it!" She shouted, bounding back into the room, causing both men to jump. She was carrying an off white tub about the size of her palm, a strange, almost sweet smell coming from it as she brought it closer to Richie. "It's this magic cream all the medics use for cuts to cure and prevent infections. This guy from the kitchen, Ben, makes it. I swear, he's a genius among Einstein's." She set the tub down on the little counter by the table Richie was sat on and turned to him. "On your stomach, let me check out the damage." 

Richie did as he was told, wincing at the air hitting the wounds as he stripped himself of his shirt and laid down. They somehow felt worse down here where it was almost cold, stinging as if they were only a few hours old, this time accompanied with an infectious ache. 

"How'd they get this bad, Richie?" She asked. She gently touched one of the wounds with her fingertip, earning a cry from Richie. 

"Could be the fact that I was chained up in the same change of clothes for almost a week. I also haven't been able to keep them clean like I usually could." 

"These are your same clothes? I thought I smelled something dead, I can't believe this shit!" She whirled around to face the other man in the room. "I swear to god, Mike, go get him so clean fucking clothes right now. This is utter bullshit! He can't be strutting around in dirty ass clothes!" He looked like he wanted to protest, the lines in his forehead deepening and eyebrows screwing together, but after a moment he turned on his heel and left the room. 

Richie almost didn't want to ask. "How bad is it, Doc?" 

"They're green. And there's a bit of puss coming out of the deeper ones. Most definitely infected. They're pretty gross, Rich." She paused, then added, "almost as gross as you." 

"Wow! Bev gets off a good one!" He yelled, laughing at his friend. She laughed, too, but hers was much weaker, less bright. 

She stalked off across the room and grabbed a wooden bowl, filling it with water. She grabbed a cloth, too, sinking it into the water, then wringing our the excess. She walked back over and started cleaning the wounds as gently as possible, wiping away the dirt and sweat and puss. 

"These should fit," Mike said, setting the clothes next to Richie's legs. "I talked to Captain Uris, too, asked him about getting a few changes of clothes to put in your room." 

Richie felt a blush creep up from his neck to his ears. "Yeah, uh, thanks man. That's really nice of you." 

"No, yeah, I would've done it sooner if I had realized you had been... hurt." Richie nodded, but said nothing in return. 

"Okay, Rich, I'm gonna apply this salve all over to start the healing process. Come down every night starting tonight so I can apply more, okay?" she asked, her voice soft as thought talking to a child. Richie nodded. "This might be a little cold." 

Despite it's odd smell and gross, grey-green color, the salve was practically magic. It soothed his infected wounds, instantly granting relief. Richie sighed as she massaged it in gently, being careful to completely cover each wound. 

"You're a life saver, Bev," he said, swinging his legs over the side of the table and slipping on the clean shirt when she had finished. He tossed the old clothing into a hamper across the room. 

"Don't thank me yet, I'm giving you some actual medicine, too, and it tastes like actual dog shit," she said, handing him a small cap of pink liquid. "It's real stuff you have to go find at a port, not anything made by a pirate chef, so it should clear that nastiness up within a couple days." 

He took it from her hesitantly, looking to her for reassurance. She nodded and motioned for him to drink it eagerly, and with a sigh, he took it like a shot. 

"You lied to me, Bev," he said, wiping his mouth and handing back the cap. "That tastes worse than dog shit." 

She erupted into her bubbly laughter, throwing her head back, her shoulders shaking. She grabbed the tub of salve. "It'll knock you out, too, so I guess I won't be seeing you for the rest of the day. It'll be a good nap, though, I've gotten great reviews from the previous pirates I've given that to." 

Richie rolled his eyes, a smile on his face, too. "Gee, Bev, if you wanted to get me vulnerable you could've just said so." 

She went into another fit of giggles, even Mike snorting at the stupid joke. The three left the room and went back into the hallway, Bev saying a short goodbye before returning to work and Mike and Richie walking back up to his room. 

When Richie woke up again, head foggy but back feeling significantly better, he was surrounded by candle light. A lantern was lit on one of the shelves of the bookcase, one he hadn't lit, and orange light streamed in from under the door. He yawned and padded out of the room, slipping by the pirate he had never seen before who slept soundly on the stool across from his door, mouth hung open and snoring softly. 

The temperature change was drastic, from sweating bullets during the day to longing for a coat under the moon. He went back to his room for a long sleeve shirt, throwing it on and walking back out. 

He leaned against the side, his forearms supporting him as he looked out over the moonlit sea. He breathed the salty air in deeply, inhaling as if it was his last breath. A breeze passed over him, spraying him with droplets of seawater and rustling his curls. 

A dull thunk ripped him from his trance, a bottle of whiskey set down next to his right forearm. Two glasses joined it, clinking together and echoing across the empty deck. Richie looked up to see who was joining him only to be met with the shining brown eyes of Captain Stanley Uris.

"I thought you might need a drink," he said, pouring some of the alcohol into a glass and handing it to Richie.

Richie hesitated, gazing down at the dark liquid within the glass. "Did you lace it or something?" He asked, looking up at the captain. 

Stanley laughed, sharp barks that sliced through the quiet air. "No I didn't lace it, you paranoid fool. Do you want proof?" He chuckled, lifting the glass to his lips. He took a sip, smacking his lips after and holding the glass back out to Richie. "Perfectly safe, it's yours if you want it." 

Richie was still suspicious, but he took the glass anyway. He watched the captain pour himself a glass, too, before he finally took a sip. "You're not going to chain me back up for leaving the room, are you?" He asked. 

Stan snorted. "No, keeping you under lock and key doesn't seem to be working too well. You've got a way of worming your way out of sticky situations, it seems." He said, smiling into his glass. "Unless you preferred the chains, in which case I'm certain I can arrange that." 

Richie nearly choked on his drink, making eye contact with the smirking captain. "I knew you were a kinky bastard, Uris! Wow, did I call it or what!" 

The captain flashed his smile, white teeth bared to the world. “You're not the only one with jokes, Your Majesty. Just maybe the only one without enough self control to keep them to yourself." 

"What a boring world that would be." Richie laughed. 

Stan shrugged, leaning over into the same position as Richie. The moonlight turned his blonde hair into an almost silver color, shiny and bright like a halo. Richie watched it as it was ruffled by the wind, the curls falling over each other like leaves in autumn. 

"We arrive in England in two days, in case you wanted to know." he said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. He traced the lip of his glass with his fingertip over and over again, eyes focused on the pattern. 

Richie’s heart rate quickened, anxiety filling his chest. "Fuck," Richie whispered under his breath. He rubbed at his face with the palm of his hand. "I can't- look, I can't fucking go back there, man. There's got to be something I can do, something I can offer that would stop that." 

"Unless you can best your father's reward, I'm keeping my ship on course to England to deliver you to the crown.” Stanley said, downing the rest of the drink in his glass, setting the empty glass down next to the bottle of whiskey. 

"I'm sure I could," Richie said quickly. His chest felt cold. "I-I could beat it for sure, it's nothing compared to what Henry collected over the years." 

"What are you talking about?" the pirate demanded. 

Richie was panicking. “I was with Henry for over a year! I know- look he's-he's dead and- and I- he would confide all sorts of things to me! I can help you get his treasure." Richie stumbled over his own words trying to get them out as quickly as possible. Stanley looked at him skeptically, screwing his brows together and standing up straight.

"You would lead me to the treasure despite your... history, with Henry? All to avoid-“

"Henry's dead. He’s dead and I refuse to go back to England.” He said, cutting off the pirate. “You want money, I know where some is. It's a win-win situation, and afterwards you can drop me off anywhere in Europe and you'll never even have to think of me again." Richie was begging, but he couldn't feel shame over that when he was trying so desperately to get away from his fate. "I was offered freedom the day I left with Henry and I can't let it go now. Help me help you." 

There was a beat of silence, Richie's soul threatening to leave his body as he waited for the captain to give him an answer. He stared at Richie with such an intense gaze Richie almost wanted to cower. 

"Fine," the captain said. "If this treasure is adequate enough, I'll drop you in Ireland and you'll never hear from me again." He scooped you the glasses, pushing the whiskey towards Richie, and stalked off towards their quarters.


End file.
